lerbook Chapter 76 The Rebirth of Jiangnan Shipyard
Chapter 76 The Rebirth of Jiangnan Shipyard
Jiangnan Shipyard.
Six o'clock in the morning.
The old gatekeeper froze as soon as the iron gate was opened.
A long line of military trucks was parked outside the gate.
The trucks lined up from the factory gate all the way to the corner of the road, winding and seemingly endless. Each truck's cargo bed was covered with military green tarpaulins, which bulged out as if they were loaded with a whole truckload of artillery shells.
A second lieutenant in a gray-green military uniform jumped out of the lead truck.
"Is General Liu Zhenliang, the director of Jiangnan Shipyard, here?"
"In...inside..." the old man stammered.
The lieutenant took an official letter out of his pocket and handed it over.
"Order from the Logistics Department of the Southeast Area Army Headquarters: 10,000 shi of refined rice, 1,000 shi of flour, and 200 barrels of tung oil. Chief Liu's signature is required."
The old man took the official letter, read two lines, and his hands began to tremble.
"Ten...ten thousand shi?"
The lieutenant didn't bother to explain and simply waved his hand behind him.
The canvas of the first truck was lifted.
The white rice, packed into bulging burlap sacks, was stacked from the bottom of the carriage all the way to the top of the canvas. Sunlight shone through the gaps in the sacks, casting a warm, golden glow on the grains.
Immediately afterwards, the second one.
The third one.
The fourth vehicle.
Every vehicle was fully loaded.
……
The news spread like wildfire throughout the entire shipyard.
"The food has arrived! The food has arrived! The young marshal has brought us food!"
The workers in the dock dropped their hammers and welding torches and ran towards the factory gate like madmen.
Most of these workers were pale and emaciated.
Although Chen Zijun had invested a huge sum of two million pounds in the Jiangnan Shipyard, the money could buy steel and equipment, but not enough food. With fighting on the front lines and building industries at home, food was scarce everywhere. The shipyard's more than three thousand workers had been eating coarse cornbread, sweet potato porridge, and dried radishes for two months straight.
Now, ten thousand bushels of fine rice are laid out before them.
Enough to eat for more than half a year.
The old workers squatted beside the trucks, reaching out to touch the heavy sacks, tears streaming down their faces.
"Good rice. It's really good rice."
An elderly riveter with a white beard scooped up a handful of spilled rice; the grains were plump and golden in color. "This must be top-quality japonica rice from northern Jiangsu."
The young apprentice beside him swallowed hard. "Master, can...can we have white rice for lunch today?"
"Yes!" The old riveter wiped away tears, his voice trembling. "Not just today! We can eat it every day!"
A deafening cheer erupted from the crowd.
Some people shouted "Long live the young marshal!"
Some people were kowtowing towards the direction of Shanghai.
Some people even started crying while hugging sacks.
……
10:00 AM.
A black bulletproof sedan drove into the gate of Jiangnan Shipyard.
The car door opened.
Chen Zijun walked out wearing a dark gray military uniform.
There was no general's uniform, no white gloves, and no honor guard. He only brought Shen Li and four guards.
Liu Zhenliang was already waiting at the dock entrance.
The director, in his sixties, wore a blue work uniform stained with oil and a worn-out safety helmet. His hands were rough like tree bark, and his fingernails were full of rust and grease.
But his eyes were frighteningly bright.
"Young Marshal!" Liu Zhenliang rushed forward and grasped Chen Zijun's hand. "The grain has arrived! On behalf of all 3,600 brothers in the unit, I thank you!"
Chen Zijun patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't thank me. This batch of grain was hoarded by the Japanese, and our people intercepted it. It's only natural to feed our own people with the enemy's supplies."
He glanced toward the dock.
"Where's the boat? Take me to see it."
Liu Zhenliang's eyes lit up even more.
"Young Marshal, please come with me!"
The two walked down the iron ladder in the dock.
The dock is as deep as three stories.
When Chen Zijun stood at the bottom of the dock and looked up, he paused for a moment.
A massive steel frame stretched across the center of the dock.
The 93-meter-long main keel has been laid, and the rib frame is extending upwards on both sides. Sparks fly from the welding arcs dancing on the steel skeleton, and the air is filled with the distinctive metallic smell of welding.
Hundreds of workers were distributed in different positions on the keel. Some were welding ribs, some were riveting the outer side plates, and some were standing on the scaffolding directing the crane to lift the load.
The entire dock was roaring.
"This is the Class A destroyer." Liu Zhenliang's voice trembled with an almost pious tone.
"The main keel is 93 meters long, and the full-load displacement is 1,800 tons. It is powered by four Parsons steam turbines and has a design speed of 36 knots. It is armed with four 4.7-inch guns and two sets of triple torpedo tubes."
He turned around and pointed to a section of the keel tail that was enclosed separately.
"We have thoroughly studied the Parsons engine blueprints you provided. The first batch of forgings made from 500 tons of Ma'anshan special steel arrived last week, and the boiler and reduction gearbox are currently being processed."
Chen Zijun walked around the dragon bone once.
His palms rested on the cold steel plate, feeling the hard texture of the metal.
"How's the progress?"
Liu Zhenliang took a deep breath.
"Young Marshal, I made a pledge to you before, to go into the water in six months."
He paused.
"But things have changed now."
Chen Zijun raised an eyebrow slightly. "How did things change?"
"Our biggest bottleneck before wasn't steel, or blueprints. It was people." Liu Zhenliang's voice suddenly turned somber. "These workers weren't even getting enough to eat. They would work eight hours a day and their hands would shake so badly they couldn't hold the welding torch properly. Some of the older workers were just forcing themselves to work on empty stomachs."
He glanced at the convoy of trucks unloading grain in the factory area.
"But things are different now. With this 10,000 shi of fine rice, my men can have enough to eat. With enough to eat, they can work twelve hours a day. I'll also change the shifts from two shifts to three shifts, day and night."
He held up four fingers.
"Four months! I can go into the water two months earlier."
Chen Zijun's lips curled up slightly.
"Four months?"
"Four months."
Liu Zhenliang patted his chest. "I, Liu Zhenliang, have worked in this shipyard for thirty-seven years. From the Qing Dynasty to the Republic of China. If this ship can't be launched in four months, you can cut off my head."
Chen Zijun looked at him for two seconds.
Then he laughed.
"Fine. I won't cut off your head. If you can really build it for me in four months, I'll allocate another three million pounds to build you a real 10,000-ton warship dry dock."
Liu Zhenliang was startled.
Three million pounds.
How much is that?
That's enough to build three more destroyers.
This is enough to transform the Jiangnan Shipyard, which had been dilapidated for thirty years, into the largest military shipbuilding base in the Far East.
The old man's lips trembled a few times, but he couldn't utter a word.
After a moment, he suddenly stood at attention and gave Chen Zijun a standard military salute.
"Young Marshal, rest assured. Even if old Liu's bones are buried in the dock, this ship will definitely be sailed out for you!"
……
at the same time.
Across the Huangpu River. The Japanese Concession in Hongkou District.
The top floor of a gray three-story building.
A middle-aged Japanese man in a suit is standing by the window, holding a Zeiss telescope in his hand.
His name is Hideo Inoue.
After the destruction of the Special Higher Police's Nanjing station, Tokyo urgently transferred a new intelligence chief stationed in Shanghai from the Kwantung Army.
His telescope was pointed at the Jiangnan Shipyard on the south bank of the Huangpu River.
Through the lens, he could see clearly—
Military trucks are transporting goods to the shipyard.
White rice.
One bag at a time.
A continuous stream.
His knuckles gripped the copper tube of the telescope, slowly turning white.
He recognized the words printed on those rice bags.
"Refined wheat flour".
Those are the characters of the Great Cherry Blossom Empire of Japan, and they are Mitsui & Co.'s bags.
That was the grain they had stockpiled in Nanjing for more than half a year.
They are now being taken by Chinese people to feed the workers at the shipyard.
The warships built were intended to fight the Japanese.
Hideo Inoue slowly lowered the binoculars.
His lips were stretched into a straight line.
His jaw clenched so tightly it made a grinding sound.
But he didn't say anything.
Because he dared not speak.
Thirty-one people were just massacred at Nanjing Railway Station.
The Shanghai station was also largely purged during the previous Battle of Wusongkou and the Nanjing Road Incident.
The Special Higher Police's Shanghai station now has only eleven people left.
Eleven people.
There weren't even enough men for a full-strength squad of the Imperial Japanese Army.
He could only stand by the window, gritting his teeth as he watched.
Watching those military trucks drive into the shipyard one after another.
Watching the welding sparks above the dock dance like stars.
They watched as a shipyard in an ancient Eastern country they had once looked down upon grew fangs bit by bit, using their own Japanese food.
He slowly picked up the pen on the table and wrote two words on a piece of white paper.
"Urgent."
……
evening.
Chen Zijun stood by the iron railing beside the dock, the afterglow of the setting sun bathing the entire keel in a golden-red light.
Shen Li walked to his side.
"Young Marshal, Zang Keping is calling. The Independent Armored Brigade has completed its rest and ammunition resupply. He's asking when we'll depart."
Chen Zijun did not turn around.
He gazed at the keel of the destroyer that was taking shape, his eyes calm and deep.
"Everything is safe at home now," he said softly.
"Give Uncle Zang a telegram."
"His rest period is over."
"Immediately contact my father's military government in Zhejiang Province and ask him to assist with railway transportation so that troops can be dispatched to Fujian..."